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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30053169">Lost In You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koumagda/pseuds/Koumagda'>Koumagda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Little Witch Academia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Delicious and painful angst, F/F, Heartbreak, but don’t we all feel broken, read authors note for information</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:08:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30053169</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koumagda/pseuds/Koumagda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The first heartbreak will always be the most difficult, but perhaps the first is also the last.</p><p>Rated T for the contents of the author’s note.<br/>***important details about author + other fic Don’t Touch Me in AN</p><p>Second Chap up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Diana Cavendish/Atsuko "Akko" Kagari</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Lost In You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=they+know+who+they+are">they know who they are</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The thing about her was that once she’d set her eyes on something, she just had to have it. It didn’t matter whether it was an object, person, or some type of honor; a desire to hold the desired close courses through her veins. For Diana Cavendish to face rejection, it was almost unspeakable.</p><p>Perfection. She was, and always had been, perfection. Everyone around her, including her parents and most highly respected professors, had told her that she was perfect. Diana was stunning when she smiled, lovely to be around, and most definitely intelligent. </p><p>So then why was she curled up in bed, hands clutching her bleeding, burning heart as if they could keep it from staining her snow-white sheets at approximately 11:34pm on a Sunday night? There could only be one possible explanation, and that was the first and only individual capable of unlocking her complete vulnerabilities: Kagari Atsuko.</p><p>A flash of pain erupted from within Diana before spreading itself across her chest. It oozed slowly, and it crept up on her so quickly, all she could do was clench her jaw and bear it. The tears that ran down her face weeks ago, she thought that they’d be long dried up by now. Unfortunately, they threatened to soak her pillow as they welled in her eyes.</p><p>A romantic betrayal was painful, but there was no amount of agony that could usurp that of a friend’s betrayal. Her head exploded with thoughts and mental cries for peace. </p><p>Diana Cavendish was too good for her anyway, Atsuko, most commonly referred to as ‘Akko’, did not deserve her. No—that was false. Akko was superior to her on many levels including experience, athleticism, and compassion. </p><p>Diana Cavendish did nothing wrong to deserve this, Akko wronged her first. No—that was also false. The two of them equally brought the destruction of something that they both cherished. Yet if they loved each other so much, why do things that make them both cry?</p><p>Diana Cavendish is young, and she will find someone else. There are plenty of fish in the sea, of course. That… may as well be true, but the important question is whether or not she would even want someone else.</p><p>She wanted to slap herself in her hurt for daring to think that anybody else would love her, or would be lucky to have her. There was nothing but imperfection staring back at her in the mirror now.</p><p>The rejection brought about a violent turmoil and hurricane of emotions.</p><p>One moment, Diana was enraged. The next, she was feeling sorry and pathetic for herself. But in an instant, that quickly transformed itself into arrogance. From there, things quickly dissipated into grief, and then feelings of happiness and contentment. These moments never lasted long though. Soon enough, she was swung around the circle back to her initial feelings of shock and pain.</p><p>Akko must think her to be disgusting, pathetic. Perhaps she talks about her to other people like what they had previously meant nothing. No—Akko wouldn’t do that, it wasn’t in her character. </p><p>Diana must think Akko to be a heartless, disappointing liar. No—that could never be true, it just wasn’t possible. For good people are capable of doing absolutely terrible things.</p><p>Fleeting moments and dreams encouraged Diana to be optimistic. Perhaps maybe in the future, they would reunite and be together like they used to! Diana was quick to stomp the flames of those hopes out. </p><p>She dug her heel into the grey ash that was the only remnants of her and Akko. </p><p>Disgust. She felt it not toward Akko, but towards herself. Had she been good enough, then she never would have ended up where she was now. </p><p>Teach me, show me, somebody save me, I just don’t understand what’s wrong with me—the thoughts swirled through her mind, which fell blank on more than one occasion due to prescribed antidepressants and anger suppressants. </p><p>
  <em> I was so lost in you. </em>
</p><p>An agonized shriek threatened to tear itself from her throat, but in the end, nothing came out. Crying was foreign to Diana. Diana Cavendish did not cry.</p><p>As a child, it attracted too much negative attention from her peers and the public. It also made her mother worry, and that was the last thing she wanted. Throughout her youth, Diana concealed her tears to the point where the act of displaying such sadness morphed into an ugly, childish tantrum. Salty warmth and hyperventilating with frequent risk of cardiac arrest plagued her to the point where she decided that if one must cry, it should only be around someone worthy of such trust.</p><p>She regretted allowing Akko to hear her sobs. </p><p>If somebody had told Diana that heartbreak felt like this, then she would have never pressed that send button on the messenger app of her phone. She felt nothing but regret overflowing her soul along with grief. Yet each time she thought about wanting to take back the time spent with Akko, she bit her lip. It would be an immense insult to Akko to say that she had regretted their time together. The only question left rolling around inside her head was: <em> do you regret us? </em></p><p>Fear of becoming aware of any more answers rooted itself deep within her. Thus, she kept her mouth shut. But after much consideration, there were many more questions that her mind begged to ask.</p><p>
  <em> Are you happier without me? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Was there anything I could have done to make your heart feel better? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> What should I have done to be enough? </em>
</p><p>Perhaps she was too desperate, too jealous, too toxic, and those concepts are what allowed Diana to welcome the silence that hit her. </p><p>
  <em> Do you prefer French to German? Should I have spoken a more attractive language?  </em>
</p><p>That was ridiculous. A thought so idiotic that even Diana cringed when it popped into her head.</p><p>
  <em> Will you sing our song to your new lover? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Will you tell your new lover that you regretted wasting time on me? </em>
</p><p>Those two thoughts cut deeply, yet they made themselves present in the depths of her mind.</p><p>
  <em> Do you laugh at me, see me as a fool for hurting and expressing it? If so, then what should I do? </em>
</p><p>A friend that she confided in was what Diana saw Akko as. Without that, she turned to other individuals who were, without a doubt, better. Yet why share a part of yourself with people when you’ve already been burned for it?</p><p>
  <em> Did you know that I think you’re still perfect? </em>
</p><p>In all of Akko’s flaws, in all of Diana’s flaw’s there was beauty. The way she did her hair so messily on days off to the way she cursed so vehemently when she found something absolutely absurd. How hot tears slipped from her eyes as she lurched forward and held her stomach as if she were sick when she was upset. </p><p>
  <em> I am glad that I cannot recall what you smell, taste, or feel like—do you feel the same? </em>
</p><p>Surely if Diana did, then she would be feeling a million times worse. It was somewhat unfortunate, but it provided a shield against the knife of betrayal that tried to burrow its way under the skin of her back.</p><p>
  <em> Are you aware that I no longer dream of you, and that I have torn myself away from the eyes of the interested? Perhaps that satisfies both you and your new lover? </em>
</p><p>Diana told herself that she did not have the right to feel. It was not her place to feel. She was pathetic, annoying, absolutely insane. She gaslighted herself, but was it really like that?</p><p>A genuine desire for Akko and her new partner’s happiness presented itself before her, and Diana welcomed it inside her mind with the utmost respect. Yet something was nagging at the back of her brain.</p><p>The solution? It was simple and it came to her just like that.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I will never love again. </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Oh the silly things we hide just to keep our peace of mind. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Now I’m Not A Kid No More, No I’m Not A Kid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Coping.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clack, rattle, click, repeat. </p><p>She tossed her head back and relished the coolness of crystal clear water sliding down her throat, a pill riding the wave to her stomach as she did. There, in front of the bathroom mirror, her hand up to swiftly wipe a lock of hair from her eyes. Diana glanced briefly to the sharp blades of the scissors resting on the counter beside her makeup purse. </p><p>Her fingers snatched at them in the quiet that permeated the small room, and she raised them to about the height of her neck. Eyes falling shut, she allowed the crisp, clean sound of slicing to break the silence. </p><p>     </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>In the mirror, she was unsure of how to react, but the panic rising within her seemed to answer all of her questions regarding how she felt. Fingers scrambled and clutched at her throat in a flurry of nails and sweaty palms. A weak sound escaped her, and Diana stared deeply into the mirror in front of her.</p><p>Short hair. It didn’t feel right; the way her curls ended at her shoulders. For the longest time, she had kept her hair lengthy, just the way her mother’s was. Diana felt the ghost of a hand running through her soft strands of hair before coming to a rest as it cupped her cheek. She brought her hand up to rest atop it, but it was then that she realized that no warmth would be returned. Her mother, like many other individuals in her life, was gone, and she would not be returning from the earth in which she had been laid to rest many years ago. </p><p>Diana let out a sigh, brushing the remnants of her back-length hair from her shoulders and arms. She then allowed her hands to fall on either side of the sink in front of her, leaning forward and allowing them to support her weight. With a shaky breath, she inhaled. After a few moments, she exhaled as slowly as could be. </p><p>“I am alive,” she whispered to herself. Her eyelashes kissed her cheek twice in an attempt to withhold oncoming tears. “I will survive with or without my mother. I will survive with or without Kagari Atsuko,” she promised herself, albeit in a trembling voice.</p><p>Such weakness was foreign to her, and the memories of reliance on another individual to maintain her happiness were enough to make her cringe. But here she was now, small but still alive. </p><p>Yet again, she shut her eyes, but this time with purpose.</p><p> </p><p> “I love you, Akko.”</p><p> </p><p>Only the hushed hum of the bathroom fan answered her, droning out the echoes that rang. She waited to feel something, anything, but nothing came. Relief was about to flood over her when her mind construed a response that she denied to desire:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Diana… I love you too.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Damn. She grit her teeth as a few hot tears ripped their way past her eyelids to carve streaks down the sides of her face. While medication had suppressed the intensity of her feelings, her heart felt occasionally sharp and lasting jabs. </p><p>Like a child, she flicked them away using the backside of her hand. It left her eyes red and somewhat irritated, but she had not a single bit of care left within her body. Everything had gone out the door the day Akko left—or more like the day she left Akko.</p><p>She’d done this to herself, she decided while gently pulling on one of her short curls with a finger. If there was anybody who needed to shut her trap and take it, it would be her. The self-blame accumulated within her to the point where she feared an explosion.</p><p>Diana stood up and straightened her posture. She did not need love to live her life. There was no need for familial love nor romantic love. In fact, she hardly needed her friends. It was safe to say that parting from Akko had helped her come to the realization that is: one can only depend on themselves.</p><p>She felt humiliated to have been cheated on, and she felt even more so upset at herself for refusing to give up. Some things are better left in the ground, and she only now wished that whoever Akko was with would treat her with the utmost care. </p><p>There would always be a part of her that held love for the other girl, although she may not like Akko at the moment. It was a tricky feeling to explain, but it was what she had to offer to anyone who prompted her about their falling out. Unfortunately for Diana, nothing could quite explain how her passion for certain things that Akko loved about her had taken a hit. Her talents, habits, and food-cravings took beating after beating as she tried to eradicate all reminders of her ex in her life. The solution to a reoccurring pain is to remove it at the source. </p><p>However, she was in a love-hate relationship with the things that reminded her of Akko. Not once would Diana ever say that she fully despised her time with Akko. As a result, constant internal conflicts waged war within her chest.</p><p>“I don’t care if you don’t want me anymore, I want you.” The toxic thought slipped past her lips, and she immediately cringed at how pathetic she must have sounded.</p><p>“Diana? Who are you talking to?” One of her maids called with a gentle knock to her door.</p><p>“Nobody,” she answered. After a pause and a thought, she added, “Myself.”</p><p>It was half-true. In her fight to understand why Akko didn’t want her, she was forced to go face-to-face with herself and her own self-hate. But she had decided that she loved herself deeply, even if herself wished that she’d disappear. </p><p>Without her mother or Akko, there was nobody to hold her but herself. </p><p>“Will you be joining Ms. England and Ms. Parker for brunch?” The voice of her maid came again.</p><p>“Yes,” she replied firmly. </p><p>Looking in the mirror once more, she saw affectionate ruby-red eyes and a lop-sided smile. When she blinked, they were gone.</p><p>After admiring her new haircut, she turned, reached for the door knob, and twisted. With that, she was gone, leaving parts of her past behind her. A new her, one who was not a romantic in any way, shape or form, emerged. </p><p> </p><p>The floorboards creaked as she left the room quiet once more.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all for your wonderfully kind words. I’m unsure of how to express how impactful they were. Believe me, I’m trying to continue on, and I know that many of you are here for me. I appreciate it, so, so much.</p><p>I have come to realize that the way I am right now is exactly how I felt as a result of my exchange year. The only difference is that immediately after, I had someone in my corner supporting me and shielding me from the abuse I inflicted on myself.<br/>As a result, I’ve come to believe that I ended up indirectly inflicting damage on them as I sought out to hurt myself as punishment for how my exchange year ended.<br/>If that person is, at all possibly, reading this, then you have my apologies. Yes, yes it is you, you goof. There’s no questioning it. </p><p>Anyways, this time around I am alone, and I am determined to pick up the pieces on my own.<br/>I fucking hate myself, guys. Why? Do I even need a reason? I hate my fucking self. I FUCKING HATE MYSELF!</p><p>But you know what? I’m going to own it. </p><p>I’m here, and I fucking hate that. I don’t want to be here anymore, and I’m so tired. But if I leave early, then I won’t be able to prove to myself that I didn’t need love or affection or the care of someone else to keep on breathing.</p><p>I don’t need any of this pathetic fucking love shit, and I’m embarrassed that I believed in it. This world is twisted and fucked up and it doesn’t make sense, guys—I’m sorry I’m sooo late to realize that.<br/>I’m angry. I’m angry, I’m sad, and I’m hurt. </p><p>And I feel like an injured deer sprinting sporadically in an attempt to escape something that already gave up on chasing me long ago.</p><p>Poetic, right? Put it on a coffee mug and give me .69% of royalties. I’ll give you a kiss on the cheek to go with it.</p><p>I don’t believe in love or faith or fairytales anymore, and from now on, that threatens to come forth in my art and fics... though Don’t Touch Me might have a happy ending for the sake of the originally planned storyboard. </p><p>Good RIDDANCE to my old self, I might come and play with it whenever my anger, frustration, and bloated ego dries up.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Dear readers,<br/>Many of you have seen my tumblr, and many of you were actively reading Don’t Touch Me. I’m going to have to apologize for the fact that I so carelessly abandoned something that exploded in a popularity that I didn’t expect.<br/>.<br/>The fact that some of you still check in on me, and that there is still a large overwhelming amount of patience and love in the comment section... this little author note doesn’t do it justice, but it’s what I have to give.</p><p>I have tumors in my chest that are causing me some minor issues despite them being supposedly benign.<br/>I’m celebrating my year anniversary of both DTM’s success and my failure as a foreign exchange student as well as the abuse that I endured overseas.<br/>I have further plans that I am pushing for, but I’m struggling. I cannot reveal those plans as of now, but it’s a minor sacrifice that I’ve decided will benefit someone in the long run.<br/>Let’s see... aside from<br/>T/W: suicide</p><p> </p><p>3x failed attempts in the last year, I’m doing pretty okay working on myself. Some friends have been so, so good to me. Without them, I would not be typing this. They are not in this fandom, but I have so much love for them.<br/>One sat on the phone with me as I cried after contemplating and almost deciding to shoot myself in the head. Another listened to my chokes as I tried to figure out the “right” way to cry after my failed overdose. The last person to stop the third attempt was myself, but I give most of the credit to my father. I’ll tell everyone this, because it was something that stuck in my mind:</p><p>He entered my bathroom at 2am where I was hunched over the mirror, sobbing and spitting up blood from god knows where. “I would do anything for you, anything!” he said with tears brimming his eyes.<br/>I realized then how much of a total asshole I was. I was going to throw away everything that I was and that I had worked for over a few minor bumps in the road of my life.<br/>How could I?<br/>Where did I get the nerve?</p><p>My readers, I wish that I was someone who was a little more brave, a little more perfect like my egotistical self is trying to convince myself that I am. I wish that I was as perfect as my teachers and parents describe me to be, but I’m not and never will be. I wish I was as perfect as I want myself to be, that I tell myself I am. I want to be the one person that everyone hates because of their overwhelming narcissistic behavior—but I’m not that person. I’m so terribly flawed.</p><p> I’m working on it, I’m trying my very best, I swear. But this pain that lies deep within me sprouted overseas... though perhaps it has always been here.</p><p>I got rejected by two host families, readers. Two entire families decided that they didn’t want me. And after that? Another person decided the exact same thing. And around the same time? I remembered that previously one of my doctors and then my first and only therapist also decided that they didn’t want to see me anymore.</p><p>Readers, I have a long, terrible streak of rejection.<br/>But as I was laying in bed one night, I realized that there is still a place that has not rejected me yet—and that place is here.</p><p>Please continue to take care of me.</p><p>*Fic edited 1x 3-15-2021 for minor mechanical errors and typos</p></blockquote></div></div>
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